


On Fire

by Sheepnamedpig



Series: Tumblr Fics [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Derek Hale, Post-Season 2 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepnamedpig/pseuds/Sheepnamedpig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://stiles-hale-stilinski1993.tumblr.com/">stiles-hale-stilinski1993</a> prompted: "Derek may be an Alpha but there is one person he will always submit to: Stiles" Where Stiles and Derek are in a relationship and Derek loves it when he falls apart beneath Stiles’ hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Fire

Derek knows crap-all about being an Alpha when he slits Peter’s throat. He thinks it can’t be too different, that Alphas are still werewolves, (and Derek is very, very good at being a werewolf), so he’s unprepared for the burn of power that floods him, filling him up with flames and heat and  _need_.

Suddenly, he’s not very surprised by Peter’s erratic behavior.

Biting Jackson dampens the flames, but only just, and then not at all when it appears the bite didn’t take. Isaac’s takes, then Erica’s and Boyd’s, and the connections formed between the four of them help him balance his power, passing it through so that he feels less like a walking column of fire.

And then the fire is doused. Or, not quite doused, but thoroughly banked. Reduced to a low, warm smolder. Derek tries to find words for the new sensation as Stiles treads water, but keeps getting distracted by the rapid thud of Stiles’ heartbeat.

The heat rebuilds as he walks away from Scott and Stiles, Stiles’ dark eyes and the subdued sound of  _abomination_  following him through to the morning hours and kindling the brief burn of his morning jerk off.

It doesn’t stop building as the kanima situation unfolds. Peter manages to drain it with his resurrection stunt, but only temporarily. By the time he gets to the police station, the inside of his skin feels singed.

That sensation returns, that feeling of being quieted without being smothered, softened without being muffled, and Derek rues the fact that he has to put up with Stiles while he’s trying to figure out the source of the sensation and how to get everyone out of this clusterfuck.

(It’s not that Derek doesn’t like Stiles. He does, grudgingly. The kid’s sharp and loyal and smart as hell, basically the recipe for an excellent beta, but he’s also a mouthy little shit pathologically incapable of refraining from poking mean things with pointy sticks.)

Then Derek finds out that Scott’s been betraying them all along and the fire inside him roars, consuming him from the inside out.

Erica and Boyd leave and Derek’s tenuous support system crumbles. He self-medicates the backlash by beating Peter into the floor. And yeah, it is a little cathartic.

Derek is off his game when things come to a head in the warehouse. He’s an Alpha, working in tandem with two betas, splitting his power between the three of them in spite of Scott’s stubbornness, but his body feels sluggish. He barely puts up a fight when Scott pulls his head back, using him to complete his betrayal.

Derek isn’t Scott’s Alpha. The tenuous thread between them shivers and snaps and Derek aches with fever. 

After, Stiles approaches him. The right side of his face is bruised and raw and he’ll have a nasty shiner come morning. Derek’s spark flares at the sight. He tells Derek about seeing Erica and Boyd in the Argents’ basement. Chris confirms, then admits to releasing them. Derek feels a flare of hope that maybe they’ll return, but then remembers that this was exactly the kind of thing that they were running  _away_  from.

Stiles hovers uncertainly at the edge of Derek’s personal space and Derek wishes he’d either step out or step in. The latter needs more consideration, but Stiles steps closer before Derek can gather himself and leans in to ask, “Are you okay? You look— Kinda shitty.”

There’s a hint of that calm sensation again, and Derek slumps wearily toward it, only to blink when Stiles practically shoves him back upright from where he'd all but collapsed against Stiles. His hands feel cool on Derek’s chest, even through the sweat-and-blood damp material of his shirt. Derek wants to feel that coolness all over.

 _Shit_ , he thinks.  _It was Stiles all along_.

Derek pulls away from Stiles and gets the hell out of there.

&&&

Jackson takes surprisingly well to training. It’s a sports thing, Derek assumes, and probably also a Lydia thing, because Lydia insists on coming to ‘assist’ in Jackson’s training.

Derek doesn’t understand why she keeps bringing Stiles with her. Apparently they’re friends now? Derek both hates it and anticipates it, because with Stiles comes that gentling of his Alpha spark, which lets him focus in ways he didn’t realize he hasn’t been able to since being a Beta. The fever, the sluggishness, the instability that had been affecting him all fade when Stiles is near him, and Jackson complains mightily about being repeatedly thrown face-first into the ground.

Lydia tells him to suck it up while Stiles laughs.

After training winds down for the day, Lydia and Jackson take off. Isaac does too. Apparently he and Scott are spending a lot of time together. Time that doesn’t seem to include Stiles, because Stiles sticks around like there’s no place he’d rather be.

They talk sometimes, but spend most of the time in a companionable sort of silence. Stiles does his summer homework. Derek reads. Stiles badgers him into buying healthier food. Derek bitches about Stiles trying to fill his hollow leg with food Derek is paying for. Stiles makes noises about living spaces and modern amenities. Derek moves into a loft on the industrial edge of downtown and doesn’t give Stiles the address.

Stiles breaks into Derek’s new loft and cooks a massive batch of incredibly spicy vegan chili with ingredients he’d bought with Derek’s stolen credit card. Derek breaks into the Sheriff’s house, steals Stiles’ laundry, and mixes all the reds and whites so they come out pink, then folds and puts everything in Stiles’ drawers.

After Derek gets home from  _breaking into the Sheriff’s house and washing his son’s dirty laundry,_  he considers his life, considers his choices. He eats the admittedly delicious vegan chili and wishes the summer was over already so Stiles would be spending all his time at school again, thus removing the temptation from Derek’s life.

But then he sprawls on his bed in the patch of mid-morning sunlight and the only heat he feels is the glow of summer sunshine and the curl of warmth emanating from his spark and he wants Stiles to be around always.

Stiles marathons tv shows with him on the days that Jackson doesn’t come for training. They camp out on the couch, watching episode after episode on Stiles’ laptop and getting crumbs all over everything. Stiles goes home to sleep, sometimes for dinner if his dad doesn’t have a late shift, and then comes back in the morning, lather, rinse, repeat.

Stiles kisses him during  _Game of Thrones_ 's title sequence. Derek doesn't blame him; at almost two minutes, its a really long intro. But Derek kisses him back, shivering all the way down to his marrow, and when they go back to watching, he leans into the shoulder that presses against his.

The feel of Stiles’ body against his own (always clothed at first, then gradually but increasingly unclothed) is just as good as Derek has been imagining. His skin is cool where Derek’s is hot, energy and entropy flowing between them until they meet somewhere in the middle, perfectly warm.

The circle of his arms makes Derek feel safe. Like Stiles is a protective barrier, sheltering Derek from the world, but also the world from Derek; when lust threatens to burn him up, Stiles contains the conflagration like a ring of back-burned ground, a circle of char and soot.

A circle of ash.

So when Sties pushes Derek down onto his bed, Derek goes easily. He lets those hands corral and control the power that burns in him, shaping it to their liking until Derek is a shivering wreck. His orgasm is sharp and bright like a handful of gunpowder thrown onto a fire.

But it doesn’t feel like a bending of will. It feels like guidance, like Stiles is helping Derek shape himself into something new. And though Derek doesn’t know what his final shape will look like, he trusts Stiles to make it worth the journey.


End file.
